


Sinful Morsel

by neurotoxins



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Absorption, Mild Blood, Other, Reader Is Chara, Soft Vore, Vore, ecto-guts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 08:33:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7094473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neurotoxins/pseuds/neurotoxins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sans discovers a new way to make Chara atone for their sins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sinful Morsel

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for someone I follow on tumblr because we're both vore trash. Enjoy or don't lmao.

“hmm. that expression...” he starts with that stupid, unfaltering grin. “that's the expression of someone who's died seven times in a row. nope, wait, that's definitely nine, sorry. or was it ten?”

He’s made a fool of you for the last time. You’re not even going to fight with a shred of decency this go round. You tighten your grip around your knife and just lunge at the skeleton, unconcerned with whether or not he has a fair chance.

“i wouldn’t do that if i were you. but i guess you already did.” His pupils disappear into inky, black sockets while he grabs your arm mid-strike, sharp phalanges piercing your skin. You screech in pain as blood trickles down your arm, shooting him the most malevolent glare you could muster. If looks could kill, the bastard would’ve been dead before this even began. All things considered, this is just a burden in your way that you’ll strike down just like the rest. He and all of his pathetic friends would die by your hand. He’d have to get tired eventually, standing there to greet you with that shit-eating grin on his face every reset.

You’re about to go in for another swing at him when your skin starts to tingle and burn unpleasantly. Your vision is blurred with blue flames that envelop your entire being. You briefly begin to levitate before you’re thrown to the ground and go numb. The last thing you see before your vision fades is the only challenge you’ve ever had staring down at you with that wry grin.

 

You’re wakened by a sharp prod in your gut and an intense warmth. Your face twists in anger as you search for who or what is responsible.

“heya.”

You turn around, and holy shit, either everything’s gotten way huge or you’re hallucinating. Judging by the first thing that greets your vision – the fucking skeleton again – you’re guessing it’s hallucination by blood loss. Instinct tells you to pick up your knife and shove it in one of his eye sockets, so you do. Or, you attempt to anyway, but you can’t find it and a wave of anxiety swells in your chest.

“lookin’ for somethin’?” he asks with an amused chuckle. “oh, your knife, huh? yeah, i’d give it to you, kid, but it would be _point_ less.” His grin stretches like it’s the best fucking joke he’s ever told and you want him dead this very instant. He picks up your knife and you stumble backwards onto your butt and shuffle away when you realize it’s easily thrice your size. What the fuck was going on?

“yeah, forgot to tell ya. you’re small now. that’s my special attack.”

You feel sick at the thought of being an object for his amusement and turn to bolt, but a cage-like skeletal hand wraps you up before you can do so. You struggle and thrash with all your might to no avail.

“aw, how cute. heh. i could just eat ya up,” he smirks, and a wave of blue erupts in his eye like a flame.

“No!” you exclaim and bite his hand with as much power as your jaw will allow, but that only earns you more cacophonous laughter. It hurts your ears.

“it’s funny that you think you have a say in the matter. what, think i should show you some mercy like you’ve shown everyone else? you’re more of a comedian than i gave you credit for. almost makes me wanna spare you. i appreciate good humor.”

You feign a hurt face, like you’re suddenly sorry for all the hell you’ve caused the underground. Ha, you’re not in the slightest, but if it gets him to let his guard down, you’ll put on whatever charade you need to.

“I-I’m sorry,” you choke out in your most convincing grief-ridden voice.

“aw, man, kid, i’m suddenly convinced. you’ve moved me. you know what? let’s just put this whole thing behind us, huh? move on with our lives,” he says, setting you down. “maybe everything will go back to the way it was once we leave this hall, huh? like some kinda magic.”

 

You blink, surprised as all hell. Was he actually letting you go? You’ll take what you can get at this point! The blithering idiot will regret this. You’ll find another monster that’s been living under a rock and doesn’t know what you’ve done. There’s bound to be someone out there that could turn you back to your original size, right? You turn-face and sprint as fast as your tiny legs can carry you. After a few seconds, you realize you’re not going anywhere. In fact, your legs aren’t even on the ground anymore and you’re levitating again. You’re face-to-face with the chucklefuck again all too soon, and he’s wearing the most sinister face you’ve ever seen.

 

“ **d i d y o u r e a l l y t h i n k i’d l e t y o u l e a v e t h i s p l a c e w i t h o u t a t o n i n g f o r y o u r s i n s**?” His voice is booming. It feels like he’s speaking within your mind, but that doesn’t stop your hands from instinctively shooting up to cover your ears. The blue force surrounding you, which you can only assume is his magic, tightens its grip on you and pulls you closer to his face. A light blue tendril emerges from his mouth and—wait, he has a tongue?! How is that even possible? While you’re distracted by your bewilderment (how the fuck do skeletons have tongues?), you’re carried to his mouth and that warm, wet tongue drenches you in a sloppy lick.

“y’know, for being such a spoiled, rotten soul, you sure do taste sweet. i think i’ve found a better use for you, kid.” You panic when realization hits and start to struggle against the blue magic keeping you afloat.

“D-Don’t, dammit! I said I was sorry!” you protest, trying to sound sincere.

“heh. we’re way past the point of ‘sorries’, m’fraid. you can apologize ‘til you’re blue in the face, pal, and i still wouldn’t dream of letting a sinful morsel like yourself waltz on out of here. i mean, that’d make me pretty bad at my job,” he shrugged with a lazy grin.

You shudder with fear and disgust as the force of his magic withdraws and deposits you in his skeletal hand again. He looks down at you and runs that filthy blue tongue over his canines. Was he seriously going to eat you? Skeletons aren’t supposed to have stomachs, let alone tongues!

“Don’t eat me,” you warn, venom in your voice. You back away from his face the best you can until your back is touching his phalanges. “You _can’t._ You don’t even have organs! This isn’t a fair fight, you _freak.”_

“wow, kid, no need to fight at all when your words wound me more,” he mocks. “as far as not having organs… don’t need ‘em. you’ll see what i mean soon enough.”

 

You cry out as his tongue wraps around you, simultaneously drawing you into his mouth and coating you in weird, goopy saliva. You’re not going down without a fight. You work your arms out of the binding tongue and manage to grab onto an incisor, clinging to it for dear life. You feel a gust of breath rush past you in what sounds like a sigh. His tongue easily dislodges you since you’ve taken a nice saliva bath, but not without managing to draw some blood from scraping against the incisor. You wince in pain and suddenly his mouth closes, blocking out most of the light and cool, outer air. His tongue is lapping at your blood as though it were a fine wine while you’re forced against the roof of his mouth, unable to move as he toys with you.

The vibrations of his pleasured moans rattle your whole body. You desperately try to pull yourself back to a tooth, but the slippery tongue makes it impossible. You feel hatred radiating from deep within you for this enemy, unlike anything you’ve faced before. Is this how eternity was going to play out for you? Fighting and failing over and over until one of you gives up?

 

All movement ceases in his mouth and you’re left just lying on his tongue as he sucks on you. After several minutes have passed of the prodding, toying, and tasting, you’re fed up.

“If you’re going to do it, just get it over with,” you say with a defeated sigh.

“whatever you say, kiddo.”

You hate his voice and everything about him. You feel a tugging sensation and a loud “GULP” as you’re forced down the skeleton’s esophagus which, again, shouldn’t be possible, and you come to a halt in what you can only assume is the beast’s belly. Everything is dark and it feels like you’re in a pool of breathable gelatin. You curl into a fetal position, close your eyes, and wait for it to be over. That is, until he decides to torture you more by unzipping his hoodie, which allows for light to flood in. You then see that you’re in some sort of translucent blue orb. The hall you fought this asshole so many times before is in plain sight, albeit blurred a bit by the blue gelatin-like substance you were floating in. It seemed like if you just tried hard enough, you could swim your way out. You manage to get to the walls, only to discover that you’re trapped because they’re solid. You’re then greeted with the sight of the skeleton’s white phalanges rubbing against the walls, nearly touching you. You’ve never wanted to cut off someone’s hands, or lack thereof, more than his.

“bet you thought you’d go right through me, huh?” he laughs, and everything he says or does is amplified.

“ah, yep. you were pretty good. could’ve used a bit of ketchup. i’ll make sure to bring that with me next time.”

“Let me out this instant or I’m going to murder every last one of them,” you hiss.

“heh, not really in the position to be making threats right now, are ya?” he says, patting his stomach which, in turns, shakes you up a bit. “you’re not the most _taste_ ful person i’ve met.” Again with the laughter, like he thinks he’s the funniest thing ever.

“I’ll wipe that smile off your stupid face one day,” you promise.

“sure you will. hey, can you struggle more next time? it makes this all that more satisfying.”

“I’d never give you the satisfaction,” you mutter. Exhaustion was beginning to wash over you and you felt like you were going to drift off soon.

“hm. maybe your next reset will be feistier. you’ve given me a bunch of ideas, kiddo. thanks.”

Your last thought before everything fades to black is how you’re going to put him through hell next time. You’re broken down and converted into magic in Sans’ weird ecto-belly, providing him with the strength to fight you – and win – all over again.


End file.
